


A Thing for Big Mechs with Gentle Sparks

by ClothesBeam



Series: Restoring Cybertron [1]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClothesBeam/pseuds/ClothesBeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post Transformers: Prime. Plug and play</p><p>A stressed Smokescreen looking to relax finds Knockout at the Well in the middle of the night, but soon discovers the ex-con is not interested in talking about his feelings. ‘Facing, however, might be a different matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thing for Big Mechs with Gentle Sparks

As Smokescreen approached the Well, he began to have second thoughts about coming out here in the middle of the night. He should be resting in preparation for another hectic day as half guard of the Hall of Records, and half manager of the place.

He sped along in his Earth vehicle mode. The tyres were not quite suited to Cybertron’s metallic surface, but they were good enough to pick up a decent speed.

He did enjoy his work, but being cooped up inside all the time was driving him stir-crazy. And there was always so much to do! He should really return and get onto the never-ending list, but he just knew he wouldn’t be able to focus.

He slowed as he got closer to the Well, feeling he shouldn’t risk scuffing the sacred place with his worn out tyres. He transformed and walked the rest of the way. He liked to sit here and pretend Optimus could hear his complaints. Who knew, maybe Primus himself was listening sometimes?

The closer he got, the clearer it became that he wasn’t the only restless mech out to visit the holy place tonight. He slowed when he noticed the position the gleaming red mech was in. He was sitting on the edge of the Well, and looked like he could slide in at any moment.

“Hey, Knockout!” he called while he was still quite far off, hoping to avoid startling him.

The ex-con glanced around sharply before his optics settled on him. He seemed to decide Smokescreen wasn’t worth the effort, and turned back to gazing into the hole below him.

Smokescreen’s smile became forced as he stopped to stand behind him. “Why are you out here at this time of night?”

“Why are _you_ out here?” he returned snarkily.

Smokescreen vented, but answered anyway. “I was thinking about Optimus and felt drawn here.”

“Ditto,” he replied, turning to look at him properly, “but about Breakdown.”

Smokescreen leaned over and glanced down at the pulsing blue of the AllSpark. Of Optimus. He stayed close to Knockout to make sure he didn’t, well, try to join it or something crazy.

“What was Breakdown like? I never got to meet him,” he asked, resting one hand on the wall of the Well and not moving his gaze from the inside.

“Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”

“At this time of night? Afraid not,” Smokescreen replied, turning to smile at him. “But you sitting right there is kind of worrying me, so I think I’ll hang out here a bit longer.”

“What?” he asked sharply, before seeming to register what he was talking about. “Oh Primus no! You think I’m just going to end everything now the war is finally over?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be the type, but better to be safe than sorry,” Smokescreen replied with a shrug, privately relieved.

“Honestly,” he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the well so he was facing outward instead. He still sat near Smokescreen, looking him up and down.

“What?” he asked, glancing down to try and find what had caught his attention. No one buffed themselves as much as Knockout, but Smokescreen did have some standards for himself.

“Nothing, just admiring the view,” he replied shortly with a mischievous glint in his optic.

Embarrassed, Smokescreen turned away slightly. Given that he’d been born into the war and harsh training regimens before being confined to the Hall of Records, he had never really been ‘hit on’ before. “What, can you see your own reflection in my plating?” he quipped nervously.

Knockout shrugged, demeanour turning less hostile when he noticed the younger bot’s hesitation. “That’s just an added bonus.”

Smokescreen rolled his optics. “You are unbelievable.”

He nodded in agreement, unashamed. “Well, if you’re just going to sit there I’ll take it as a go ahead,” he replied, resting a servo on his arm.

Smokescreen felt his core warm at the simple movement. The embarrassment he felt for his stupidly strong reaction only made things worse.

“In the middle of a dry spell, are we?” he asked, not unkindly. He was simply amused.

“I’ve probably travelled in stasis for longer than I’ve been online and aware,” he replied, but he could understand Knockout’s misconception. Once the protoform stage was over, it was generally difficult to ascertain a Cybertronian’s age. “I’ve never _not_ been in a ‘dry spell’,” he answered.

“This war has cost us all a lot, but that’s just tragic,” he said, sensually sliding his servo to his waist.

Smokescreen made a face at that. “I think people like you are called ‘hippies’ on Earth.”

“And I think people like you are called ‘sexually oblivious rhinoceroses’,” he teased. Watching movies wasn’t the only thing he had done for fun on Earth.

“Well it’s not my fault,” he huffed, “stop making fun of me.”

Knockout trailed lower, past his hip and outer thigh. When Smokescreen only stared, without protest, he brushed behind the sensitive knee joint before going back up to rest inside his leg. “I do apologise. Shall we remedy that travesty?”

Smokescreen glanced down into the Well guiltily. “Uh, not here…”

At first he looked disappointed, but then nodded his acceptance. His servo took hold of Smokescreen’s, who automatically supported him as he stood. Knockout dragged him across the empty plains and back toward the newly rebuilt capital.

Their walk back gave Smokescreen time to cool down and reconsider. But he soon found there was nothing to reconsider.

He wanted this. With Knockout. _Badly_.

They entered the red mech’s building through the back door before climbing the emergency stairs to his floor. Obviously an emergency alarm hadn’t been installed for them yet, since all of that tech was going to places that were more likely to be at risk, like laboratories and libraries. Resources were still… limited.

Most of the housing units were new and samey, since the survivors and refugees had few, if any, personal possessions. From what he could tell in the dark, Knockout’s was not that much different to his.

Just being pushed onto the berth had him heating right back up to where they had left off. Knockout leaned over him and parted his thighs with his knees. “Now, for the sake of being absolutely sure, are you all right with this?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Are you? I mean, if you’re still mourning Breakdown…”

Knockout chuckled. “A mech asking me if I’m sure I want to ‘face? That’s just adorable,” he replied, flicking the spot between his optics. “But really, do I look monogamous to you?”

“Sure, why not,” Smokescreen muttered. Here he was trying to be sensitive, and look where it got him…

Knockout just smirked as he ran his servos over his thighs, carefully so as not to damage his paint too much. “I have a soft spot for big mechs with gentle sparks.” He dragged his fingers around Smokescreen’s interface equipment before adding, “But as a doctor, I recommend you let your fans switch on before you overheat into stasis lock.”

He wasn’t quite able to look the medic in the optic as his fans whirred. Normally he was alone by the time he got to this stage. To his embarrassment the panels protecting his ports had moved aside on their own at some point.

“So how do you want to do this Smokey? Want to be the one to lead the charge?” he asked with a raised brow.

He reset his vocaliser in an attempt to not sound like a helpless mess. “You seem to be enjoying yourself up there. What do you recommend, Doctor?”

Now that his fans weren’t the only ones whirring, he wasn’t so self-conscious.

“I understand,” he replied warmly, and Smokescreen felt a tingle of charge run down his back strut and spark at his port. Knockout ran his finger over his equipment, picking up the charge. “Ooh, already firing on all cylinders are we? Then I recommend immediate interference.”

He lined up with his port, and Smokescreen felt himself reconfiguring to the shape of the intrusion. “I hope interference is code for – hnnngh! – ‘face,” he replied, but he already had the affirmative.

Charge from Knockout ran through his frame as soon as they had established a connection. It seemed to pick up all his restless energy as it passed, then carried everything back through the connection.

Knockout gasped and brought a hand to his face, nearly losing his composure. “It’ll be more enjoyable if we slow it down a bit,” he said, holding and dispersing much of the charge through the berth, sending back only a fraction of what he’d been given.

Smokescreen concentrated, but the energy had escaped him before he could attempt anything of the kind. “How do you control it so well?” he asked through a stilted vocaliser.

The mech just smirked, proud of himself. “ _Millenia_ of practice. You’ll get it sooner or later.”

Smokescreen made a high pitched sound as the energy returned to him again. He brought himself some time to calm it down by redirecting it to his arm, but it still returned to his port too quickly to make much difference.

“Hmm,” Knockout murmured, amused. “Perhaps sooner than later.”

Smokescreen grinned, faceplate components twitching as he lost control of himself. “I’m smarter than I look,” he got out anyway.

“And sound, apparently,” Knockout replied dryly, picking up the charge he had stored in the berth and shocking Smokescreen with the powerful wave he had first sent out.

“Yes, _yes,_ ” Smokescreen hissed, pretending that it didn’t sound like he had just agreed with the sarcastic mech.

Knockout smiled indulgently before reaching into the seam between his leg and his interfacing equipment. Smokescreen gave a response that was more static than words as his claws ran harmlessly over his overcharging cables.

And to think, some people thought he kept those small clawed fingers to cause _damage._

Knockout finally pushed everything he had into the younger mech’s systems. Smokescreen’s optics offlined as he overloaded, passing the pleasure to Knockout.

Smokescreen rebooted his optics in time to see Knockout handle his own overload rather more delicately. Still buzzing slightly, he felt them disconnect.

“So, did you enjoy that?” he asked, sliding over to lie next to him with slow, sensual movements.

“I’m glad my first time was with someone so experienced,” he replied as he tried to get his jittery spark to calm down.

Knockout hummed his content as he inspected the pair of them for inadvertent scuffs. “Do go on,” he teased.

Smokescreen vented loudly and his fans quietened down a notch. “You are insufferable.”

“Oh? Maybe another ‘face will remind you that I am, in fact, not.”

“Maybe,” he replied and wrapped his arms around the mech, “another time.”

He tutted at the danger his paintjob was in, but didn’t protest further. “Next time, car mode.”

Smokescreen froze in confusion. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Just a race, he _hoped_.

Knockout smirked, intentions clearly far less innocent. “You’ll see.”

“You’re lucky you’re good looking,” he grumbled, and felt his systems drop into recharge easily, for once.


End file.
